


tea, soup and tlc

by fonulyn



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: And softness, Attempt at Humor, Caretaking, Fluff, Gen, I think I'm funny :'D, Joe is sick but Joe refuses to admit Joe is sick, Just lots of fluff, M/M, Sickfic, domestic feels, so a little crack-y, wrapped in humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:14:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27081751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fonulyn/pseuds/fonulyn
Summary: “I have no idea what you are talking about,” Joe says and promptly sneezes. Blindly he waves his hand around and before he even manages a single word, Nicky has already dug around his pocket, found a tissue, and pressed it into Joe’s waiting palm. Then Joe blows his nose, very noisily, for a long time, so thoroughly that it leaves his nose reddened for a moment.“Yeah,” Nile says, unimpressed, “no idea.”Andy looks a little too pleased about this, but it’s probably because for all of last week she was forced to stay on bedrest, shivering with fever and half-buried under mountains of tissues, cursing her new mortal life to the deepest depths of Hell. “I told you not to use the same spoon I did,” she says.--Or the one wherein Joe is not sick. At all. Nope. He isn't.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 48
Kudos: 309





	tea, soup and tlc

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this](https://theoldguardkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/2487.html?thread=495287#cmt495287) :)

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Joe says and promptly sneezes. Blindly he waves his hand around and before he even manages a single word, Nicky has already dug around his pocket, found a tissue, and pressed it into Joe’s waiting palm. Then Joe blows his nose, very noisily, for a long time, so thoroughly that it leaves his nose reddened for a moment. 

“Yeah,” Nile says, unimpressed, “ _no idea_.”

Andy looks a little too pleased about this, but it’s probably because for all of last week she was forced to stay on bedrest, shivering with fever and half-buried under mountains of tissues, cursing her new mortal life to the deepest depths of Hell. “I told you not to use the same spoon I did,” she says, and goes to poke his cheek. She stops mid-movement, though, looking at his runny nose and puffy eyes, and takes a step back, obviously not ready to risk getting sick _again_.

“I keep telling you,” Joe says, rolls his eyes, and kind of sort of _sways_ in his place. Like summoned Nicky steps next to him and props him up easily, making it look like he just happens to stand so close to his husband, like he only wraps an arm around him because it’s nice, not because Joe would otherwise stumble and fall flat on his face on the ground. 

Joe gives him a grateful smile, before turning towards the women again. “I am fine. Can we just go already? It’s a si—” He stops in the middle of the word, inhaling quickly two, three times, before he bursts out a sneeze. Afterwards he wipes his nose as if nothing happened, and finishes, “simple enough job.”

“Which is why Nile and I can take care of it,” Andy points out, for the fourth time, but she seems to acknowledge that there’s no talking Joe out of it when he’s like this. “But suit yourself. Just keep the sniffling down so that you won’t blow our cover.” 

“What sniffling?” Joe asks, incredulous. Then, he sneezes.

Nicky hands him another tissue.

*

The drive is surprisingly silent, with everyone making sure they have everything they need, and Joe doesn’t even sneeze once. He keeps sniffling silently, though, and a couple of times Nicky asks him something in a low enough voice that Nile can’t catch the words. Even if she did, chances are it’s in a language she doesn’t speak, so she would be none the wiser anyway.

Eventually Nile can’t take the curiosity anymore and she speaks up. “I didn’t know we _can_ get sick? Doesn’t the whole immortality thing kind of take care of that for us?”

They both ignore Joe’s incredulous “I am not sick!” and Nicky’s “Here, blow your nose.” from the backseat, and Andy gives Nile a vague shrug. She purses her lips, looking like she’s considering it, before she finally answers with a curt, “We can, but it’s… it doesn’t last.”

“The last time I was sick,” Joe interrupts again, and suddenly he’s right there, leaning between the front seats in a way that makes both Andy and Nile not-so-subtly lean to the sides to get to a safer distance from his germs. Joe doesn’t seem to notice, or then he doesn’t care, as he simply continues, “was in 1098! Before I died! …for the first time.”

Surprisingly gently Andy elbows him backwards and he goes with a grumble. “He’s not entirely wrong,” she admits, begrudgingly, “I’ve never seen him catch anything.” She pauses, a slow grin spreading on her lips as she glances back through the rearview mirror. “Not even when Nicky had the plague in the 1300s.”

Nile sputters, entirely inelegantly. “The _plague_!?”

“It wasn’t pretty,” Andy says with a sigh, shaking her head.

“Nonsense,” Joe cuts in, “Nicky is always pretty.”

“Thank you, love,” Nicky answers solemnly, but there’s a distinct edge of amusement to his voice that Nile probably wouldn’t have even noticed a few years back. “But you’re wrong.”

Joe doesn’t manage to argue, not before he succumbs to another fit of coughing and sneezing, sounding like he’s only a step away from choking in the backseat with the way his breath only comes in wheezing, pathetic little gasps. He sounds worse by the minute, and Andy slams the breaks. “That’s it,” she snaps. “Nicky, get in here. You’re driving him back to the safehouse.”

“What about us?” Nile asks, ignoring Joe’s loud protests. Nicky doesn’t say a thing, but instead gets out of the car and dutifully slips behind the wheel as soon as Andy vacates the driver’s seat. Nile scrambles out of the car, and Andy gives her a shrug. 

“We’ll walk. It’s not far,” she says as if it’s no big deal. It probably isn’t, to her. During her years she’s probably covered more distance on foot than Nile can even comprehend. Then Andy leans forward, knocking on the window so that Nicky lowers it. “I don’t care if you need to tie him to the bed, Nicky. Make sure he doesn’t get up before he… you know. Stops _that_.”

On the backseat, Joe is coughing up a lung and loudly insisting that he is, in fact, completely fine.

*

“As much as I love it when I have your full attention,” Joe says, voice muffled from where he’s wrapped in four blankets, huddled in the corner of the couch. “None of this is necessary.” That, at least, is the approximate translation of what he’s saying. In reality his nose is so blocked and his throat so sore that he doesn’t get a single word out properly.

Thankfully Nicky has enough practice deciphering Joe’s languages that he doesn’t really even struggle. He places his palm on Joe’s forehead, frowning a little at how hot he feels. “You’re hot,” he says, trying to remember if they have a thermometer somewhere so he can check just how high the fever is. 

Joe beams at him. “Thank you.”

Even with his runny nose and the feverish glint in his eyes, Joe manages to look so charming and downright _adorable_ , that Nicky doesn’t have the heart to roll his eyes at him. Instead he leans in and places a chaste kiss on Joe’s forehead, murmuring a soft “I’ll get you something to eat.” He straightens and reaches out to grab the tea from the table, pressing the mug into Joe’s palm as soon as Joe manages to extricate his hand from the blanket burrito. “It’s more honey than tea,” he says with a smile, “just like you want it.”

With a happy little hum Joe brings the mug to his lips and takes a long sip. “Almost as sweet as you, my love,” he croaks out, his eyes slipping shut. There’s a brief stretch of silence, comfortable around them, before Joe opens his eyes again and meets Nicky’s gaze with his own. “My throat may be the slightest bit sore,” he allows. “This helps.”

“So, do you think you could eat something?” Nicky asks, already turning towards the kitchen. “Some soup?”

“Nonsense, we’ll just eat when Andy and Nile are back, I’m—” Joe stops with a frown. Nicky isn’t above giving him the best puppy dog eyes he can manage, and he can see the moment Joe’s resolve crumbles, the very second he’s swayed and changes his mind. As predicted, Joe inclines his head to the side, giving a barely-there nod. “Soup would be lovely.”

Nicky has no intentions in spending more time in the kitchen than absolutely necessary right now, so he’s grateful for the pre-packaged ingredients he can use. Nile wondered about that once, when she saw him all but inhale a portion of cold pea soup straight from the tin can. _I thought you only ate home cooked meals_ , she said, _How come you can eat_ that? She quickly understood, though, when Nicky explained that starving to death a few times made all food seem good food. 

Sometimes, the time was right for spending hours in the kitchen. Sometimes, all they needed was something quick to keep them going. 

After a few minutes Nicky re-emerges into the living room with a big bowl of hot soup, only to find Joe dozing off on the couch, still clutching the empty mug in his hand. Gently Nicky takes the mug, before reaching out to touch Joe’s forehead again. He’s still running hot, and despite himself Nicky can’t help but worry. Getting sick is so rare for them there’s not really a lot of experience to draw from. 

The touch, as soft as it is, rouses Joe from his sleep and he blinks his eyes open, his expression immediately softening as he sees Nicky. Wordlessly they shuffle together until Nicky can sit on the couch, too, with Joe propped up against his shoulder. Carefully he feeds Joe spoonfuls of the soup, and after only three of them Joe sighs quite dramatically. “I can not even taste anything.”

“That’s probably good,” Nicky allows, “I’m not certain this is the culinary masterpiece you think it is.”

Joe only hums, opening his mouth for the next spoonful.

*

After the soup is gone, Nicky makes Joe have another cup of tea, before gently but firmly guiding him to bed for some rest. Joe’s eyes are drooping, slipping shut on their own, even as he insists that he isn’t tired at all and he’s completely fine to stay up and wait for Andy and Nile to get back.

As soon as he’s under the covers and his head hits the pillow, he’s out like a light. Yet even in his sleep he clings onto Nicky’s shirt and Nicky gives in, shuffling until he’s lying down next to Joe. He doesn’t try to resist when Joe pulls him close, tucking him against his chest without even waking up. That is how Andy finds them a few hours later, but she only gives a thumbs-up from the doorway before vanishing again. 

Relieved that everything went well, Nicky allows himself to relax. Carefully he reaches up to touch Joe’s forehead again, and the relief multiplies as he realizes the fever seems to be gone, Joe’s sleep much more restful than earlier. There’s a faint trace of hunger, but Nicky ignores it, vowing to get them all a hearty breakfast in the morning. They’ve earned that. 

Then he closes his eyes and lets sleep come.

*

The biggest downside to the mortal life, Andy thinks, is the way everything fucking aches when she wakes up. She longs for the days when she could just hop out of bed without feeling the crack in her spine, the ache in every single one of her joints. She keeps aching in places she didn’t know even had muscles.

Despite that she’s in a good mood as she heads for the kitchen. She can smell breakfast, and food always lifts her spirits. The mission was a success, and as soon as she steps in the doorway she sees Joe fussing around the kitchen, healthy as ever. It’s a win-win, if one asks her, in every possible way. “Morning,” she greets, and as if on command Nile shuffles into the kitchen too, rubbing her sleepy eyes. 

“You’ll have to help yourself to breakfast,” Joe says as he flips the last pancake. “I wouldn’t even be here, but _someone_ insisted you deserve a hearty breakfast and I’m not about to let him get out of bed.” He huffs, piling a plate full of pancakes and fruit and berries and everything else he deems appropriate. “You gave him that cold, boss.” 

“ _I_ did?” Andy asks. 

Nile echoes it. “ _She_ did?”

“Who else?” Joe asks, already halfway out of the door with his plate of breakfast. “I’m feeling _fine_.”

“Un-fucking-believable,” Andy groans. She’s smiling, though. How could she not be, when she has a pile of pancakes in front of her. Besides, Nicky will probably be fine again by dinnertime. So she looks up, grinning at Nile. “I bet I can eat more of these than you can.”

Something flashes in Nile’s eyes. “Oh, you’re _on_.”

**Author's Note:**

> am [also on tumblr](https://fonulyn.tumblr.com/post/632324304074424320/tea-soup-and-tlc-joenicky-gen-the-old-guard), if that's something you're into! come say hi :3


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